Scissors and Sour Patches
by Rainnboots
Summary: Sammy needs a haircut, so who does John enlist? Dean, of course. Short and sweet Wee!Chesters, with candy.


**Authors Note:** Random something I came up with after learning the word "precarious" in school. And they should be about eight and twelve in the story.

**Reviews:** Sour Patches to those who leave one! Again, NO FLAMES.

**Disclaimer:** I'm nothing but a sad sap who can only dream of one day, never having to put up another disclaimer again.

Bon appetit.

* * *

Dean struggled to keep his brother's we head still, the scissors hanging precariously on the top of the couch, right above his bare foot.  
"Sam, stay still!" said Dean, trying to get a grip on his shoulders.  
"I don't want my hair cut!" whined Sam.  
"Well you need one." said Dean. "Dad said so. You can barely see through it."  
"I can so!" said Sam. "And why do you gotta cut it?"  
"Because I can." said Dean.  
"But you're gonna make me UGLY." said Sam in an exasperated, exaggerated voice.  
"I am not." said Dean. "I'll just cut along the ends to make it shorter."  
Sam let out a loud whine, earning himself a rough shove in the back of the head from Dean.  
"Quit acting like you're four and stop wiggling!"  
Sam crossed his arms in a loud huff, slumping against the small couch.  
"You gotta sit up straight, Sammy, or else I'll cut it funny."  
Sam's short back straightened.  
"Okay, not don't move."  
"I _know_." Sam rolled his eyes. Dean ran his fingers through the Sam's wet hair before combing it straight, sliding his fingers through a lock and snipping away.  
Two inches and five minutes later, Sam was getting fidgety.  
"Hurry _up_!"  
"Sam, I swear to God if you don't stop moving this scissors are going to end up in your ear."  
"On purpose or accident?"  
"Do you really want to find out?"  
Sam shut his mouth, back straighteing once again.  
"Thank you." said Dean, moving around until he was in front of Sam. He sat down on the coffee table and was eye to eye with Sam, brushing the hair forward until it rested against Sam's forehead.  
"No!" said Sam.  
"What?"  
"Don't cut them!" said Sam. "I like them."  
"Seriously, Sam? They're bangs."  
"But I like 'em long."  
"Sam, you can't see out of them and you'll look ridiculous if we don't cut them."  
"No I won't."  
"Yes, you will." said Dean.  
"But I like 'em long!" Sam insisted.  
Dean sighed. "Look, Sam, I'm almost done. If you stay still for another minute and don't complain then I'll but you a bag of Sour Patch Kids."  
Sam looked up at Dean with suspicious eyes.  
"You promise?" Sam asked.  
"Have I ever lied to you?" asked Dean.  
"Yes."  
Dean scoffed. "Just sit up straight and don't fidget."

Sam held onto Dean's hand, an open jumbo bag of Sour Patch Kids tucked into his jacket pocket as they crossed the street.  
"You like your new hair cut?" asked Dean. Sam shrugged and chewed on a piece of candy.  
"Yeah."  
"Told you." said Dean. Sam pushed him a little with his body, barely making him veer off course.  
"Now don't tell Dad I bought you those, okay? He doesn't want you to have all that sugar." said Dean.  
"Okay Dean." said Sam, pushing three more into his mouth. "You want my yellow ones? They're too sour."  
"You wimp; I love the yellow ones." Dean teased. "Save 'em for later."  
Dean unlocked the motel room door and shuffled Sam in, shutting it behind him before flopping onto the couch to watch TV. He flipped through the seven channels before settling on Sam's favorite episode of Transformers.  
"Oo, I love this one!" Sam said eagerly, plopping next to Dean and folding his legs underneath him. Dean and Sam chowed down on the Sour Patch's, Dean taking the yellow and the green ones while Sam favored the red, both eating until the bag was half empty. The episode ended and Dean turned off the TV.  
"Okay, squirt, go wash up and I'll make dinner."  
Sam sighed. "Fine."  
Dean stretched out on the couch, arms going up over his head and feet just reaching the other armrest. Exhaling, Sam rushed back into the room. Short arms stretched his against Dean and Sam rested his head on his chest.  
"Thank you." said Sam. He planted a small, moist kiss on Dean's cheek. "Love you."  
"Love you too." said Dean, patting his back. "Now go change!"  
As Sam rushed away, Dean slapped the back of his jeans. Sam squealed and Dean laughed.  
"That's not funny, Dean!" Sam yelled from the bedroom.  
"Maybe not to you." Dean called back, walking to the kitchenette. Grabbing a box of instant oatmeal, he smiled to himself and began to search for a bowl.  
"I'm flushing all the yellow ones down the toilet!" said Sam.  
"No you're not."  
The sound of the toilet flushing came from the bathroom, and Dean slipped as he ran for Sam.  
"That's not funny, Sam!"  
Sam laughed and mockingly called back,  
"Maybe not to _you_!"

* * *

It's just right there on the left hand side of the screen, it takes two minutes, just PUSH IT. Please?


End file.
